


Stop Falling Out of Windows

by thousandmonkeys



Series: Bartender Spy AU [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Bartender Spy AU, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1483942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thousandmonkeys/pseuds/thousandmonkeys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bartender Spy AU; Missions don’t always go so well, and Eren should stop taking his healing factor for granted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop Falling Out of Windows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iggyzhong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iggyzhong/gifts).



 

Eren wrinkled his nose as the distinctive smell of antiseptics filled the frigid air of the wine cellar. “The corporal’s going to kill us if he knew we were using this room, you know?” He got a grunt in reply, and nothing else. Ignoring the protests of his back muscles, the Turkish boy twisted around to see behind him, frowning. “What’s wrong? You’re never this silent, even if we did handle the mission rather badly.”

Jean shook his head, looking up from the smaller boy’s back to meet those vivid green eyes. His brow was twisted in a frown. “I _told_ you to take the stairs. It looks like a cat mauled you. Viciously. More than once. With great prejudice.”

Each sentence was punctuated with a dissatisfied silence, and Eren giggled, laughter bubbling up like a fountain. “I heal really quickly, remember? And pain is a non-factor.” Not since those horrendous labs; how could Annie  _still_ work for them, betray them, never ceased to amaze the brunette. “Jeez, it’ll be fine by tommorow. You don’t need to bandage me; I’m not an invalid.” He pushed away the concerned hand with an irritated shrug, swiveling around to stare at his partner.

The taller boy shifted uncomfortably, toying with the metal of the first aid box. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get an infection. That window was filthy. Probably hadn’t be cleaned since it was built. D’you think it was built in the 50’s? The architecture sure looked 50’s, but the doorway could be 60’s, maybe 70’s…” Ah, damn, his words were slurring together again.  _Why_ was he nervous? Jeez…

Clearing his throat, he stood up, box in hand. “Well, if you’re _so sure_ you’re going to be just fine…” he said loudly, arching an eyebrow at the door. “We should clean up.” That was kind of a lie—Eren hadn’t lost _that_ much blood, most of the lacerations closing up on their own.

"I guess you’re right."

That stopped the blonde in his tracks; the Turkish boy never apologized. “What? _"_ The roll of bandages was offered up to him, and Jean frowned, unsure if this was a go-ahead kind of hand or a take-your-shit-with-you-im -not-the-help kind of hand. Eren tossed it at him, and turned around again, offering his bruised and bloodied back to the boy. Okay; it was the first. 

The silence was awkward but soon relaxed, the tension draining away as the bandages covered up most of the worst. The warmth of Jean’s hand was like a balm in the frigid air, and Eren closed his eyes, tensed shoulders relaxing—evidently the flight-or-fight feeling (or maybe it was the scene down in that cellar, with the cut-open bodies and the  _cages)_ —having put him on edge more than he would like to admit.

"Hey…thanks…"

With a satisfied huff, Jean taped down the last of the cotton, shaking his head. “Next time, _use the stairs_. I don’t care if they’re getting away, you can’t catch them if you’re collapsed on a heap on the floor.”

"I was not ‘on a heap’; it was a _recovery roll_.”

"Yeah, sure, that involves groaning and rubbing at your back as your rational-and might I say, rather dashing- partner runs off, gun in hand and without backup."

"Pfft, it’s not like _you_ need backup.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence again, scrubbing at the floor to get the stubborn stains off the stone; most of it wasn’t Eren’s, really. Jean’s method of handling runaway gangsters wasn’t all that subtle; apparently he’d taken a leaf out of the corporals book, going for the legs once they’d turned to run.

Eren took a closer look at Jean, taking in the disheveled hair and the scraped up knees. There was a bruise on his elbow, a friction burn on his palm…it all looked like Jean had skidded down the stairs, more sliding on the banister than using the floor, to be honest. “Looks like you weren’t all that careful yourself, eh?”

Jean shrugged easily, picking some plaster out from the brunette’s hair. “I don’t think you have anything to say about that. Mind if I claim a kiss?”

"Mm."

He leaned forward, one hand burying itself in the other boy’s soft hair and the other snaking around to rest in the small of his back. The cotton of the bandages caught the blisters on Jean’s fingers and he made a note to get better gloves—preferably ones that actually covered the joints.

Eren was pulling down a corner of his shirt—a new one for once, and judging from the sly smirk on the other boy’s face, he _knew_ , the bastard. “Why do you always try to destroy my shirts? Is this some fashion thing, to have one shoulder always exposed?”

"You like it that way", said the brunette, bandaged reaching up to caress the blond’s ear, brushing aside the stray strands. His mouth was right next to his ear now, and his breath fogged in the cool air of the wine cellar, tickling the skin and causing it to redden. "You know you do,"he breathed.

Suddenly, Jean stood up, and Eren fell backwards unceremoniously to land on his butt. “Nope. Not until you’re better. Sorry, poop-hair.”

"Spoilsport!"

**Author's Note:**

> Hi~ Thanks for reading, and concrit is much appreciated. I'm new to writing these two characters, and how do you fluff, but hey~ You'll never know if you don't try! :) It's SHORT. Ah well.


End file.
